


Trigger Happy Bastard

by deanwinchesam



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-27
Packaged: 2018-08-27 10:38:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8398351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanwinchesam/pseuds/deanwinchesam
Summary: The bullet had passed through the flesh above her hip, and while most of it came out the exit wound, the teen could still feel shrapnel embedded in the area. It hurt like a bitch, but at least she’d killed the guy and been able to get some cans and a couple of water bottles – score.





	

Shaggy hair. Blue eyes. Goatee. Leather jacket. Flannel shirt. Worn jeans. Scuffed boots. Crossbow. Older male.

Wavy hair. Black eyes. Twisted lips. Flannel and tank top. Worn Jeans. Hunting knife – bowie. Teenage girl. 

The odds were tilted, and definitely not to her favour. The ice eyed bloke opposite her wasn’t that much physically taller than her, maybe around five foot eight, while she herself stood at five seven. But, he was broader than her and she could tell that he was muscular even without seeing his body directly. She could also judge he was very comfortable with the weapon sitting in his strong grip. 

Not to say that she didn’t too, she’d grown up wielding knives and had spent endless amounts of hours playing and practicing with them thanks to her father, but still.  
Dirt was smeared over her face and covered one side of her body, and she watched intently as the older male’s eyes flicked down the oozing red staining her shirt and the waist of her jeans. 

“You bit?” came his rough question, gesturing to the wound partially visible under the torn material. 

The muscle in her jaw jumped. It was probably best if she answered the question; he could kill her easily if she pissed him off because she was being stubborn. “Nah. Got unlucky with a trigger happy bastard.”

It was honest, really. She’d been trying to do something stupid which may or may not have involved stealing supplies and miscalculating the time the owner would be back. It was just her luck that he’d returned a couple minutes after his departure for who knows what, and had immediately drawn his gun and fired a shot at her. The bullet had passed through the flesh above her hip, and while most of it came out the exit wound, the teen could still feel shrapnel embedded in the area. It hurt like a bitch, but at least she’d killed the guy and been able to get some cans and a couple of water bottles – score.

That’d happened a couple hours ago now, and now karma had decided to make its move, again, and chuck her into the path of this bloke. Fan-fucking-tastic.  
His lip twitched slightly and his head raised. The look in his eyes was calculating, making a decision and she’d be fucked if he didn’t believe her. Well, she could be fucked either way, but still. 

“Honest,” the blonde put on an innocent face and slowly move her hand towards her shirt.  
His fingers shifter slightly on the crossbow, and the teen deliberately made her movements somewhat slower. She lifted the material to expose the bullet wound, and made a small face as it peeled off, stuck to the skin. 

The older man’s gaze dropped to the wound and he chewed on his lip for a moment. 

Movement behind him and to the sides of the teen cause her to drop the material and step back on her leg. She winced slightly, fingers shifting on the hilt of the weapon.  
A man with a wiry beard appeared behind crossbow, brandishing an aimed gun. A quick glance to her flanks determined two other people, an Asian man and a red head both mirroring the first, apart from the semi-automatic rifle in the red heads grip. Great. 

Her lip curled and she stepped back again, eyes widening slightly as she heard the whisper of leaves against material behind her. The teen whipped around, dark eyes landing on another long haired teenage boy who also had a pistol. Shit. 

Fucking shit. 

Heaving a large breath, the girl turned slowly and glanced at each of the men, turning her back on the other teenager once more. White knuckling the hilt, she stared head on into the beard guy’s eyes. Blue. 

He gestured towards her stomach. 

“You’re hurt.” He had a typical American drawl she noticed, rather than what she assumed was the crossbow dude’s southern accent. 

“I think we can all use our eyes, Captain Obvious.” The teen snarled, baring her teeth at him in an animalistic gesture. 

He cocked his head, back straightening somewhat. “Yeah, I think we can. How’d it happen then?”

“I also think you heard my conversation with Bowman over here. You’ve already got your answer.”

He holds his free hand up slightly, showing his bare palm and nodding his head once.

“Right, I did. You alone?”

Clenching her jaw, the blonde shifted her gaze around the group once more. She looked off to the side and shook her head at herself, the movement miniscule before glaring back at the guy.

“Yeah, what’s it to you?” The redhead to her right huffed, and she flicked her gaze to him. He was smirking, albeit trying to be discrete, and failing. 

“What?” the teen snapped, taking a step towards him and all traces of humour left his features as he adjusted his grip on the rifle.

“Woah woah woah,” the American stepped forwards again and she slashed a hand out towards him. He leaned back, his expression irritated but also.. understanding?

“Easy, Abraham. We’re not here to hurt you, okay?”

“Doesn’t bloody seem like it, five of you show up with guns and surround me. I been in this situation before – those blokes tried to rape and kill me, and I’m still here.” 

The wiry guy’s teeth clicked as he shut his mouth. He nodded, lowering his weapon. “Alright, alright then. We’re not here to hurt you, we just want to talk.”

The teen rolled her eyes and huffed. “Heard that before. Didn’t end well.”

The older men stared at her, and she noticed that crossbow, as well as the other two men, had lowered their weapons. What did these guys want? It couldn’t just be wanting to talk. That was bullshit.

“You’re alone and obviously low on supplies. Coupla days ago you were skirting around our group, an’ I know you thought you were being discreet but you ain’t.” Yeah, definitely a southern accent. 

She sucked in a breath, clenching her teeth. “Yeah, I didn’t do anything though, I left you be.”

“An’ now you’ve gone and pissed of a guy who shot you; now there are walkers all headin’ towards that area. I know it was a coupla hours ago, but by now ya should know what happens when you do shit like that.”

The teen huffed, yeah she already knew that. That was why she was trying to get away, but instead here she was talking to these guys who just might’ve been there to offer something, if she could play this situation to her favour.

**Author's Note:**

> First post, so hey we'll see how this goes. It's not the best quality work ever and I don't know where I was going with this, but it was just a little idea I had. So yeah, here's a one off. Feedback is welcome!


End file.
